


Belladonna and the Beast

by Reyanth



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex, Siren sex poison beast magic compote?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: Whipping Leona into shape to pass as a fashion model fit for a fairy fete, Vil enjoys having the beastly prince under his thumb a little too much...until the tables are turned. Just how deadly is the combination of feral aggression and pretty poison?
Relationships: Leona Kingscholar/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 138





	Belladonna and the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by chatpters 1 - 10 of the "Fairy Gala" event. (I assume that's the English title, but... *shrugs* Katakana, yo.)

"Brandish that whip at me one more time, Vil, and so help me, I will show you what it means to be a beast."

Never let it be said that Leona had not given fair warning. After the thousandth lap around the room, accompanied by the unforgiving crack of leather, his nerves were raw. He was not accountable for his actions.

Kalim and Jamil had left, already. Who knew how long it had been since. Leona was convinced he was walking more elegantly than either of them had done when Vil first lavished them with praise, and he was getting very bored with this farce. If Vil wanted to treat him like an animal, then who was he to disappoint?

"What, this little thing?" A small, almost meek crack. "Does this bother you?"

The growl began as a muted rumble deep within Leona's chest, but it slowly rose to his throat and escaped between his bared teeth. It must have been a frightful sound, because Vil stumbled back in fear, swishing the whip before him in an unfortunate reflex. The loud crack that split the air pushed Leona past his limits and he pounced, knocking Vil to the ground and pinning him with clawed nails to the shoulders. Continuing to gnash and growl, Leona grabbed the whip in his teeth and tore it from Vil's hand, shaking it like prey and sending it flying, far from reach. He finally fell silent, his nose twitching in little fits as he fought down the rage of that unbearable sound.

Vil was too terrified to speak, pale and shaking like a bird with a broken wing. Even his lips were drained of color, the bottom bitten between his teeth to suppress a whimper.

As he fought to calm his frayed temper, Leona fixated on that disappearing lip, remembering how pretty it was in full bloom, like the petal of a pink rose nestled amidst all those poisonous purples... He wanted to see it blossom with color again, and without thinking, he bent down to pull it free from between Vil's teeth, running his tongue over the abused surface and then scraping his teeth over it until it reddened and flushed. With one last swipe of the tongue, he leaned back to observe his work, only to find that Vil's cheeks were also flushed with a rosy hue, and his pupils were no longer contracted in fear, but dilated with...lust. That was the scent that wafted in with a deep breath, stoking an answering ember within Leona. Mingled with the fear, it was a heady bouquet that would make even a slumbering lion's head reel.

Leona was far from slumbering. The beast was wide awake and ravenous. He had no intention of letting this prey slip between his paws.

*

Never had Vil experienced such a confusing combination of terror and desire. He could hardly believe he could feel desire at all after the shocking violence of Leona's attack on him. Crushed under the larger man with that menacing, roaring growl inundating him, he could hardly think for the fear that held him paralyzed in its clutches. All he could comprehend was that he had gone too far, and that Leona was going to kill him. He was going to be eaten.

His fears seemed to be confirmed when Leona began licking and nibbling, and it took Vil far too long to recognize that the attack was too concentrated, and far too gentle—almost like a kiss, the kind one fantasized about but never actually found oneself on the receiving end of. Yet, there he was, pinned down by Leona, his bottom lip a feast for the king of beast's pleasure...

The fingertips digging into his shoulders were pulsating slightly, kneading in an alternating pattern that felt surprisingly comforting, and that frightful growl had receded to something...gentler, almost...a purr. There was still an edge of danger to it, though, and it caught at Vil's nerves, still raw with fear, and kindled a fire in them.

This beast that now held him down was a tamer kind than that which had bowled him over, but it was none-the-less a beast. Even so... There was something beautiful to this powerful...possessive Leona. 

Vil focused on that wild beauty, and forced himself to relax, hoping it would calm Leona's feral instincts some. He slowly brought his hands up, resting them on Leona's sides, then trailed his left toward Leona's shoulder and down his arm, to rest atop his hand, clutching what little meat there was below Vil's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was too hard on you. I went to far." As he spoke, he felt the truth of his words, and another realization settled in the pit of his stomach. "I wanted to keep you with me. I didn't want you to go... I liked watching you."

"You liked having power over me," Leona growled, his fingers flexing upon Vil's flesh like a cat flexing its claws.

Vil gasped. He nodded. "Yes," he breathed. "Can you blame me?"

Unexpectedly, Leona's lips quirked in a lopsided smirk. "Hardly," he said. "I can see the appeal."

His voice rumbled through Vil's body like thunder, punctuated by a roll of the hips that drew a squeak of surprised pleasure from the prone model. When had he gotten so hard? And Leona... The light, airy material of his fairy costume felt like nothing, allowing his bulging balls to drag up the length of Vil's trapped erection unimpeded.

His head dipped, and he took a good whiff of Vil's scent, slowly rising up the length of a straining neck, his nose tickling Vil's cheek up into his hairline. The next thing Vil knew, he was being kissed in earnest, his earlier fear replaced with a burning passion as their lips melded and their tongues vied. Try as he might, though, there was no question of dominance. Leona had him exactly where he wanted him, and it was all he could do to avoid being eaten alive...for both their sakes.

*

A scent unlike anything he had ever known before was driving Leona mad, enshrouding his senses and making him to do things he would never do in his right mind. The taste of Vil on his tongue, the sound of that breathy voice in his sensitive ears... It was like he was buried under a pack of she-devils in heat in the middle of mating season. Unlike that evolutionary demand, however, he was keenly aware that this was something he wanted very badly. Vil...was someone he wanted very, very badly. 

No wonder this frail little pixie grated on his nerves with every interaction. No wonder the crack and bite of that fickle whip drove him to utter distraction. Underneath the veneer of loathing was a well of desire that he had been shoving down and suppressing with every fiber of his being. Now, it was unleashed, and he could tell by Vil's scent that the attraction was mutual. There was no disguising it.

Feasting on Vil's lips, Leona dragged his hips back and forth, reveling in the friction as his rock hard length rubbed up and down over Vil's confined bulge. He was so caught up in the scents and sensations that he might have ground himself right to completion if Vil hadn't exerted some control and wormed his hands between them, deftly divesting them of items of clothing, one by one. By the time he was shirtless, his pants hanging open, and Vil in a similar state of undress, Leona was so turned on he was overheating, his forearms trembling with restraint.

"You good?" he growled, not sure what he would do if the answer was anything other than "Yes."

He never did hear the answer, but Vil's body gave consent enough as arms and legs encouraged him, pulling him down, urging him in. He sank into Vil with a groan of relief, though release still eluded him. Something about joining his body to this beautiful creature made him feel like he was finally where he belonged. Vil's hands on the skin of his back were like soft petals, enveloping him, pulling him deeper and deeper, until he didn't know where he ended and Vil began. He completely lost himself in making love to the flower blooming around him.

*

Transported by the pleasure building inside of him, Vil clung to Leona like a lifeline, feeling those graceful muscles bunch and shift under his touch with every motion. Powerful thighs drove Leona into him over and over while rough hair swept over his arms and sides like some kind of sensual torture device, overloading his receptive capabilities. For a while, he became a creature of bliss, mindless in his abandonment, completely swept away by the rapture of being loved to the bone.

It was only when a hard bite pinched his jugular that Vil came to his senses and realized he was in danger of losing his mind entirely and dragging Leona along with him. In a desperate bid for control, he clawed his nails down Leona's back, arching his own to gain purchase. The lion roared, briefly ignited with rage, and wrapped him up tight in arms bulging with athletic strength, binding him helplessly as he was pounded hard. Powerless to resist, he let his body go limp for just one moment, and immediately found himself struck by a lightning that rushed through him, igniting every nerve. He came hard, seizing up, yet safe in Leona's sheltering arms, even as his lover thrust with animal abandon. A roar, and several hard, deep thrusts, warned Vil before a molten heat flooded his insides and Leona's straining body went slack. He was barely holding himself up on trembling arms, his breath beating hard at Vil's ear.

"What the hell was that?" Leona asked, his voice lackluster, drained by the incredible surge of energy he had just expended.

Lying flat on the ground, Vil wearily blinked his eyes open. He somehow found the strength to reach up and idly curl a lock of earthy hair around his finger. 

"You tell me," he sighed, amazed, himself.

He was aware that he had unconsciously woven some kind of siren song about the both of them in his delirium, but he was also sure that there had been some feral magic of Leona's in the mix, creating a dangerous sexual magnetism that could very well be fatal if left unchecked. At once, he was both afraid and fascinated by this incredible, magical, sexual chemistry.

Then, whatever adrenaline remained in him left him, and his hand slapped to the floor. He couldn't even hold his head straight, his cheek rolling to the side. He was more exhausted than he'd ever been in his life.

"Let's not do that again," he whispered.

He presumed Leona would agree, considering he was already snoring, his face planted in Vil's chest and his arms splayed, legs curled under. Try as he might, Vil couldn't find it in him to object, even those rough snores a lulling, soothing lullaby that dragged him down into the depths of blessed sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. That was short. And the most plotless smut I've written in forever.
> 
> All things considered, this is probably a one shot, although I've overruled myself before.
> 
> Join me at https://discord.gg/83pPzaZ a Twisted Wonderfic community! 
> 
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